Back to the Present
by Cebera
Summary: After losing the war, Sauron tries time travelling, but his plans go very very wrong, and he ends up in England in 2002. Chapter four now up.
1. Sauron in trouble

A/N: This is weird, I know. I hope it's funny. Basically, after losing the war, Sauron ends up trying to travel back in time to correct all the mistakes which led to his losing. But the plan goes wrong and he ends up going forward instead. The Fellowship will figure at some point in the not- too-distant future. I'm not sure if something similar to this has been done before (tell me if it has). I don't know if you'll like it or hate it, but please review. Next chapter will be up shortly.  
  
Back to the Present  
  
Sauron, the Defeated Dark Lord of Barad-Dur, put his non-existent head in his non-existent hands and sighed wearily. Things just weren't going his way at all. Things hadn't been going his way for the last couple of millennia, so you'd have thought he'd be used to it by now, but he had believed he was on a winning streak this time, so the defeat had hit him hard. And not just any old defeat, but a humiliating, degrading defeat, at the hands of a few 3-foot high Halflings, a whole bunch of Elves, and rather pompous but incompetent wizard.  
  
Most of his staff had handed in their notice. Without a body or any supernatural power at all, he no longer inspired terror in their hearts, and most of them were inclined to laugh at him when they thought he wasn't looking. His army (or at least the parts of it which had not been massacred or committed suicide) had disbanded, and were right now booking package holidays to all the nicer parts of Middle-Earth. His personal assistant, whom he had, in his former, omnipotent state, referred to simply as "Mouth", had resigned, was packing all his possessions into a large backpack and now insisted on being called by his real name, which turned out to be James.  
  
Sauron's presence drifted into the room which James was in and started to speak to him. That is, he tried to speak, but then remembered that he had no voice anymore. He therefore got James's attention be throwing an assortment of small objects at him. James eventually turned round irritably.  
  
"What is it now?" he said.  
  
Sauron could not answer, so he grabbed a nearby pencil and wrote something on the back of an envelope. James tried to decipher the illegible scrawls. He failed miserably. "I'm sorry, I can't read that. Try again."  
  
Sauron tried again. This time James could make out a few words, but not enough to make any sense of the message. "Write in block capitals." he suggested. The pencil scribbled furiously. This time the message was legible, but only just.  
  
"WHAT THE HELL AM I MEANT TO DO NOW? I HAVE NO BODY, NO SERVANTS, NO ARMY, NO RING OF POWER, NO ANYTHING," he read. James rolled his eyes. "Well honestly, what am I meant to do about it? I'm not your servant any more, and quite frankly I think you deserve what you get anyway. You've done nothing but plan to course misery and suffering to people for years. Thank heavens you're so completely incompetent that you were never very successful. It's your problem, you find a way out of it," he snapped, picking up his backpack and making for the door. Sauron prevented him from leaving by throwing a rather large copy of "Encyclopaedia Mordoria" at him.  
  
When James regained consciousness a few hours later, he found a small bag full of gold pieces lying next to him, along with a note saying "You can have this if you help me." James put the gold pieces into his pocket before saying to Sauron, "The only thing I can suggest is that you go and see the Doctor." He then picked up his bag and left.  
  
  
  
The Doctor was the preferred name of Barad-Dur's resident mad scientist. He lived and worked in an old and ramshackle building on a hill, a few miles outside the city. This building was the home to many bizarre contraptions, many of which were completely useless, such as the strange device which looked like half a bicycle attached to a washing machine, which was in fact a mechanism used for predicting the past. When asked what the point of a past-predicting device was, the Doctor would simply smile mysteriously and say "You never know when these things will come in useful". The Doctor had never, ever produced a machine which was both fully functional (and not prone to explode at the slightest provocation) and also actually had a point.  
  
As Sauron approached the building on the hill, he was not terribly surprised to see that its walls were decorated with a brightly-coloured pattern, which kept changing, like a kaleidoscope. He thought that this was probably the result of an errant experiment and not actually deliberate on the part of the Doctor. He entered the building by the back door, since he knew from past experience that the front door was actually a portal into a parallel universe. He had spent most of one Tuesday lunch time stuck in there, and it had not been the most pleasant experience of his life. Once inside the house he followed the sound of small explosions until he came to the room where the Doctor was working.  
  
The room was completely full of what looked like junk connected by wires, but which was probably the Doctor's latest useless endeavour. Sauron got the Doctor's attention by pelting him with crumpled-up paper. He then wrote out his predicament on the notebook which was open on a table. The Doctor read the message with apparent interest.  
  
"Well, well, young Sauron, you're in a bit of a fix, aren't you?" said the Doctor, running one of his three hands through his hair. "Luckily, I have a solution. Yes, my brilliant brain has once again come up with a machine so subtle and complex that even I have trouble believing that I could have invented it. With this machine, you will be able to travel back in time, and correct all your mistakes, so that you end up winning the war. Simple, but incredible, I think you'll agree. Of course, there'll be a small fee." Sauron took up the pencil again, and wrote, "IF YOUR MACHINE WORKS AND I WIN THE WAR, THEN I'LL PAY YOU, NOT BEFORE."  
  
The Doctor replied, "Very well, that's not a problem, since I have complete and utter faith in this machine. Now, if you'd care to step this way, I'll send you back. About a hundred years should do it."  
  
The Doctor stepped up to the machine and began pressing buttons. A door slid open, and the Doctor gestured that Sauron should step in. Sauron did so, and the door slid shut. After a few seconds of silence, there was a sharp bang, and the machine shuddered. Smoke began to fill the small, pitch black compartment from the bottom. Then the bottom seemed to drop away, and Sauron felt like he was falling. He thought he caught a brief glimpse of stars, before everything went dark again. The next thing he knew, he hit very hard ground very hard.  
  
To Be Continued.... 


	2. Sauron in hospital

A/N: Ok then, here we have *drumroll* chapter two (and in less than a day. I must've been bored). A little bit shorter than the last chapter, but I hope you'll enjoy it. For ease of writing, I'm pretending that Sauron speaks English. Thanks very much to the people who reviewed. Next chapter tomorrow sometime, evening, most probably.  
  
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~~Chapter Two~~  
  
This is wrong, thought Sauron. Very wrong  
  
He was lying face down on what felt like very hard rock, but it was flat and quite smooth, so he was sure it couldn't be. There was sound all around him, voices, shouting and laughing, low rumbling sounds like dragons with indigestion, and some distant unearthly din, which he could only assume was music. Very, very strange.  
  
Sauron pushed himself onto his knees with his hands, and it was then that he noticed he was no longer disembodied. Well, that was one good side to his current situation. He opened his eyes, and squinted around, blinded by the sun. A sea of faces peered anxiously back at him. They revolved slowly in front of him. Some seemed to split in half and merge with the sky before reforming confusingly a few metres to the left. Sauron wondered if this strange visual effect was due to a malfunction in the Doctor's machine or a malfunction in his own optical nerves. On balance, he decided it was due to his optical nerve. He had hit his head very hard, when he had landed on the ground, and that had probably done no good at all to the general state of his health. He didn't feel so great.  
  
Well, headache or no, he couldn't just lie there all day. He made a brave effort to struggle to his feet, and was almost vertically upright, when a pair of hands pushed him firmly back down again. A rather aggrieved male voice said, "Please try not to move, you'll only do yourself more damage. We've phoned the ambulance, and it should be here shortly, to take you to the hospital." There were a few too many unfamiliar words in this statement for Sauron to make any coherent sense out of it, and the rather precarious and disorientated condition of his mind did not help matters much. He weighed up his options, considered all possibilities, and decided that the best course of action would be fainting, which he promptly did.  
  
When Sauron regained consciousness, he was somewhere much quieter. There was an unpleasant smell of some unknown substance, but at least he was lying on something comfortable, which he could only assume to be a bed. He prised his eyes cautiously open, whereupon they were immediately assaulted by a bright, glaring white light. He shut them again. After a few minutes, he tried opening them, and this time was able to take in his surroundings. He was in a medium sized room, with five beds other than his own, two of which were occupied. Everything was white, from the linen to the walls to the linoleum floor. Even the flowers by one of the patient's bed were white. Sauron, being the Dark Lord that he was, had something quite close to an allergy concerning white. Back in Barad-Dur, he had been very conscious of interior design, and all the rooms in his mansion had had a tasteful red and black decor. The harsh white interior of this strange room was causing him aesthetic agony. He shuddered.  
  
In the centre of the room, a woman was sitting at a desk, pressing small square buttons on what looked to Sauron like one of the Doctor's crazier inventions. Sauron got her attention by clearing his throat loudly, but unfortunately this caused him to choke rather violently for a prolonged period of time. "Ah, you're awake," said the woman, coming over to him (she was in fact a nurse, but Sauron didn't know that, and in fact didn't know what a nurse was at all), "Are you alright?" she continued, unnecessarily, since Sauron had gone purple and seemed to be asphyxiating. She waited patiently while Sauron slowly stopped coughing and then said, "Right, well, there doesn't seem to be anything particularly wrong with you, you just tripped and banged your head on the pavement. We've done examinations and since we've found nothing, we'll just keep you in overnight and then you can go home. Now, I'll need to take some details from you, since we didn't find any identification on you. Name, please?"  
  
"Sauron," said Sauron, "S-A-U-R-O-N". He didn't have a clue what was going on, but decided just to co-operate and worry about where the hell he was later. The woman rolled her eyes.  
  
"OK, very funny, and I expect you're now going to tell me that your surname is the Dark Lord of Mordor, your address is the city of Barad-Dur, and furthermore, you're several thousand years old, date of birth unknown."  
  
"Well...yes, in fact," said Sauron, slightly taken aback.  
  
"Oh, honestly, I read that book when I was a kid, how dumb do you think I am? Now, if I could have your REAL name, please."  
  
"Sauron the Dark Lord of Mordor is my real name"  
  
"Look, buddy, I'm a very busy person, I don't have time to listen to your pathetic attempts at humour."  
  
"I'm not trying to be funny, it's the truth!"  
  
"Fine then, wiseguy, I'll just have to send the doctor in to see you later, if you're going to insist on acting like a child."  
  
She stalked off, exasperated. Sauron stared after her, mystified and slightly angry. For once in his long career of lying and deceiving, he had actually been telling the truth. What a very weird place I've landed in, he thought, as he drifted off to sleep, curse that Doctor for sending me here. 


	3. Sauron in a bin

A/N: Hello folks, here's chapter three, in which Sauron ends up walking the streets of London and finds a cinema. I hope you'll like it, but whether you do or not, you know where that magic review button is. Also, in case you're interested, I've just added chapter 7 of my other fic, 'The importance of being evil', which I personally prefer. This is the first time I've updated it in about a zillion years, but there's a summary if you don't want to read the whole thing. Ok, enough said, here's the next chapter.  
  
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~~Chapter 3~~  
  
Sauron slept for the whole night, and the following morning, the consultant doctor came round to see him. It was a frustrating meeting for both parties. Sauron was confused and angered that the doctor refused to believe his real name, and puzzled by his frequent references to a book called "Lord of the Rings" and a "film" of the same name, and ended up threatening him with all the most terrible punishments he could come up with (which included disembowelment by Nazgul and being locked in a room for a week with Shagrat and Gorbag - a fate worse than death). The doctor, however, was convinced that Sauron was a troublemaker, with a Tolkien fixation, who was just trying to waste his time, and so he also became very angry. In the end, a compromise was reached: Sauron would be discharged from the hospital and all records of his ever being there would be erased, as long as Sauron didn't mention to anyone that he had ever been in hospital in the first place. If Sauron hadn't complied with this, it could have turned into another full-scale scandal for the NHS, but thankfully for them, it suited Sauron fine. Just before he left, Sauron asked the doctor,  
  
"Do you think you could tell me what year it is?"  
  
The doctor looked taken aback, but told Sauron that the year was 2002.  
  
Sauron looked puzzled, "Do you mean 2002 of the third age?"  
  
The doctor laughed, "No, no, good lord, do you never think of anything except that book?"  
  
"I'm afraid I don't understand. What Age is it?" Sauron wondered if the Doctor's machine had sent him to the wrong time. It didn't yet occur to him that he could have gone forward.  
  
"It isn't any age. We don't sort years into ages. It's 2002 AD, Anno Domini, or CE, Common Era, or whatever you want to call it." The doctor strode away, muttering under his breath about mental cases. Sauron got out of his bed and got the hell out of the hospital as quickly as possible.  
  
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He didn't know where to go, or what to do. The only things he had with him were the clothes he had been wearing when he had landed so hard on the pavement. These clothes were like the ones he had worn sometimes in Mordor, before he'd been disembodied: a black robe which hung to the ground, tastefully decorated with red and silver embroidery and black leather boots with pointed toes. There was also a large and fearsome-looking sword sheathed at his side, concealed in the folds of the robe, and, he noted with interest, a shiny gold ring on his left hand's third finger. He was unaware of the looks which his clothing was attracting, and no-one spoke to him about it, dismissing him as a member of some cult.  
  
Sauron wandered aimlessly along the pavement of a long street, which had what he could only assume were shops on both sides. There were so many unfamiliar words and names and objects that he was quite bewildered and walked slowly, staring around in awe, oblivious of all the people he was inadvertently knocking over. What, he thought, are all these things? Starbucks, New Look, Marks & Spencer, Woolworths? He was briefly confused by a shop with the name "Rohan".  
  
After about an hour of strolling slowly, confusing passers-by with his inexplicable fascination with completely ordinary objects, Sauron came upon a building larger than most of the others. He read out loud the name which was stuck to the front in big red letters: "O-de-on". And then, something under the name caught his attention. In smaller letters, he read "The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Rings. Rated PG. Screenings 1000, 1315, 1630, 1945." This was the thing the doctor and the nurse had been on about. A film, whatever that was. Sauron somehow knew that if he could get inside the cinema and experience this odd 'film' thing, it would answer some of his questions. He walked up to the building, and through the strange revolving sheets of glass which seemed to serve as doors.  
  
A few seconds later, he emerged into the street. Puzzled, he tried again.  
  
This time, he revolved with the door for about twenty seconds before reappearing in the street. His antics were beginning to attract some attention. A group of children were laughing unrestrainedly, pointing and pulling faces. Sauron glared at them, and ran as hard as possible into the doors. The only difference this made was that Sauron emerged faster and with more force into the street, which resulted in his falling head first into the litter bin (which had been strategically positioned in this particular place for this exact purpose). For several seconds he remained upside down in the bin, shouting all the worst Orc swear-words he could think of, with his legs waving around in a most undignified manner. After about half a minute of bin-induced humiliation, Sauron succeeded in knocking the bin over, and rolled about on the ground for a while, attempting to get the thing off his head. Soon, a few sympathetic members of the public (the ones who weren't laughing too hard to do anything) came over and extracted him.  
  
Sauron stood up, and frowned around at the assembled spectators. The group of children were now completely incapacitated by mirth, hanging onto each other for support as the tears rolled down their faces, and most of the adults were not even trying to hide their sniggers. Sauron felt he should do something terribly impressive and frightening. So he leapt atop the fallen bin, stretched one arm up towards the sky and shouted,  
  
"Mwahahahahahahahaha! I am the Lord of all Evil, and I will eat all your souls. None shall escape. Be afraid, foolish mortals, your days are numbered." Sauron glanced around, to see if this had had the desired effect. It hadn't. Whereas before the onlookers had been snickering quietly, they were now roaring with laughter. Some were leaning against the wall, trying to regain their composure, others had let themselves go completely, and were kneeling on the ground, pounding it with their fists. Sauron had a strong urge to burst into tears, but managed to stop himself. He turned on his heel, and swept into the cinema, through the perfectly ordinary door which was right next to the revolving one, and which he had somehow totally overlooked. 


	4. Sauron in the cinema

A/N: Chapter 4: Sauron, having overcome the great obstacle of the doors, finally sees the film of Lord of the Rings, and is not pleasantly surprised. Thanks to everyone who's reviewed, I really appreciate it. I actually know for once what is going to happen in the next few chapters. Incredible. I generally make it up as I go along, which usually leads to me discovering on reading through that I've flatly contradicted myself all the time. Anyway, read away, people. (  
  
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~~Chapter 4~~  
  
Sauron stood just inside the lobby of the cinema. He looked around at his mysterious surroundings. The interior of the building was mainly dark red (one of Sauron's favourite colours). There were two ticket desks being operated by two employees wearing identical expressions of utter boredom, and on the opposite side of the large room was a stand selling that disgusting ridiculously expensive cholesterol-high junk food which cinemas always sell (and inexplicably make a profit on). Sauron had no clue what to do. He continued to stand, causing an obstruction to anyone trying to get in or out of the doors, and gaped.  
  
Five minutes later, he was still gaping, and the queue forming behind him was getting edgy and restless. One of the bored employees decided it was time something was done.  
  
"'Scuse me, sir, but you can't just stand there. Other people have to get in to the cinema too," he said, walking over to Sauron. Sauron almost jumped out of his skin, and stared wildly at the person who had just spoken to him. Eyeing Sauron's attire, the employee said,  
  
"Would I be right in thinking you're here for the next screening of Lord of the Rings?"  
  
"Yes," said Sauron, surprised, "How the Mordor did you know that?"  
  
"Honestly, are you trying to be funny, or do you take me for some sort of idiot? I know you know quite well we're giving free admission today for anyone coming dressed as a character from the book. And a complimentary bag of Onion Rings of Doom. At a guess, I'd say you are dressed as...hmmm, what's the name of the evil dude? Sar...no...saw...no..."  
  
"Sauron?" supplied Sauron.  
  
"Yes, that's the one. Now come over here and I'll give you your ticket and your onion rings." Sauron followed the employee over to the ticket desk, where he was presented with a green rectangular piece of paper saying "LORD OF THE R" and a small bag of stone cold, slightly congealed onion rings. "Thank you," said Sauron, "There's just one thing, though. You said just now that I was dressed as Sauron. Well, that's not strictly true, really, because I actually am Sauron. Just to set the record straight, you know." He then walked off in the same direction as most of the rest of the people. The employee stared after him, shaking his head slightly. Really, he thought, you do get a lot of weirdoes on this job. 'Specially among the Lord of the Rings and Star Wars fans.  
  
**********  
  
Sauron entered the same theatre as everyone else seemed to be making for and sat down in a seat near the back. He sat through what seemed like several day's worth of trailers and adverts before realising he was actually in a screening of something called "Scooby-Doo". He left hurriedly, and followed another contingent of people, whom he chose because they were all dressed in rather crude imitations of Middle-Earth clothing. He recognised Elves because they had hugely pointy ears protruding from under long, blonde wigs, and hobbits because they appeared to be wearing wigs on their feet. There were also people who were sprouting leaves all over their bodies, whom Sauron eventually realised were meant to be Ents. Someone was wearing a helmet with enormous great horns on it. Sauron was completely baffled by this. They entered a door marked "Screen No. 1" and Sauron followed, sitting a good distance away from them. He didn't want his vision obscured by those horns.  
  
After another eternity of trailers and adverts for such nonsense as cordless phones and some strange unfamiliar devices called 'cars', the film finally started. Sauron soon discovered that it was a warped and twisted retelling of the story of the war of the ring. Told, naturally, from the point of view of the 'good' guy, he thought bitterly, when will people learn there is no such thing as good and evil? He sat, staring in disgust at the portrayal of hobbits as sweet, innocent little pipe-smoking beings, and Gandalf as a benevolent figure of authority. When the first shock of seeing the whole tale recounted in such a different way wore off, Sauron began to think: how is it that the whole of the story is known, if I'm in the past? Either the people here can see into the future, or the Doctor's useless machine sent me forwards instead of backwards.  
  
Sauron sat through the rest of the film, pondering his dilemma. If he really was in the future, he faced two problems. One was how to get back to his own time, the other was how to win the war. As he sat, he started to think, and plot. The evil, intelligent side of his brain began to work, rather than the cowardly, stupid side which had been so much in evidence recently. Is there a way, he thought, that I can win the war from here? Can I somehow change the past by changing the record of the past in the future? The guy in that hospital said the Lord of the Rings was a book. I really need to get my hands on a copy of it. 


End file.
